With that, I’d like to officially tender my resignation as a Knicks fan.

You’ve sacrificed four seasons in the hopes of signing one guy. You cleared cap room by trading decent players (Jared Jeffries), taking on bad contracts (Tracy McGrady), and you don’t have any first round draft picks until 2029. So free agency finally comes around, and your backup plan is to sign a moody headcase to play power forward (by the way, the only truly first rate player you have right now? A power forward) and hope that you can trade for a couple players under contract until 2011?

Here are some better ideas:

Re-hire Isiah Thomas as coach, GM, and point guard.

Ask the league if you can play by “Globetrotter Rules” and hire the entire And1 team to play.

Take a time machine back to colonial New York and sign five genuine Knickerbockers.

Pay the Philadelphia Eagles $5 million for the rights to Michael Vick.

To save money, let Dario Gallinari take the floor with coach Mike D’Antoni, owner James Dolan, and 69 year old GM Donnie Walsh. Do not field a fifth player.

Don’t get me wrong. If they can get Carmelo, Parker, and Stoudemire on the same team, they’d make the playoffs. Possibly even finish in the top four. But that’s the point. Three years ago, we were here saying, “If the Knicks can get LeBron, they’ll be back!” There’s nothing in the Knicks plans about building a stable franchise or acquiring mid-level affordable talent. It’s a fantasy team. Getting back into contention is all about the promise of acquiring the next big name. I’d love to see the Knicks run a soup kitchen. “Sorry bums, no soup today..but tomorrow we’ve got lobster!”

So they went out and signed Amare. Who’s running the Knicks, me putting together an NBA Live team circa 2004? Stoudemire is crazy and gets injured a lot. He’s also the answer to the Jeopardy question, “When the Knicks strike out with the two free agents actually worth max contracts in 2010, the Knicks signed this oft-injured, overrated dog with questionable effort levels out of desperation.” He’s a headcase who has given less than 100% for certain coaches he’s played for. One of those coaches being his current coach. It’s like the plot of a bad sitcom. Mike and Amare hated each other in Phoenix. Now, they’re both back…but on the same team! Will they be able to coexist without driving each other crazy? Tune in next week for another episode of the nutty new sitcom, This is a Fucking Terrible Idea!

So that’s it for me. Unless the Knicks can convince LeBron to sign, like they’ve tacitly guaranteed their fan base they would over the past four years, I’m done. Thanks for nothing, James Dolan. But as big of a fuck up as you are as an owner, you’ll never be able to take this away. I’m going to spend the rest of the free agency period watching that clip and pretending the Knicks didn’t spend six figures on this generation’s Shawn Kemp.

I made a post on Tuesday complaining about the service at a restaurant somewhere. It was done in the form of a letter I had actually sent which took the complaint to ridiculous lengths. A bunch of people who worked there complained, which was fine. When I responded in the comments late last night, I got one reply from a guy saying saying that he hoped I went back to the place and choked. So I took it down. I don’t want to be involved with anything generating that much negativity. This is intended to make people laugh, not get them bent out of shape. This is all just meant to be ridiculous. Also, to distract everyone, I’ve posted a picture of Lebron making a sick jam over the Lakers.

If you’re new to the site, I’ve decided to give everybody a taste of what I’m really about. I’m doing a best of post with some of my favorite posts from the last couple years. This is definitely not just because I’m too lazy to produce new content:

In 1972 my crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime we didn’t commit. We promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, we survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find us, maybe you can hire…the A-Team.

Anyway, I’m the leader of that team and I’m responsible for designing all our plans. Whenever I see a plan come to fruition, it’s my job to say, “I love it when a plan comes together.” Planning just comes naturally to me. Whenever we decide to take a team vacation to Disney World, who has an itinerary ready for everyone on the first morning of our trip? Me. When we go to a ball game, and Face and BA want to go get a brat, but Murdoch wants to get a hot pretzel, who lays out a well designed plan so we all reunite back at our seats without getting lost? Me. And who makes sure all team members fill out a daily planner so they won’t miss appointments? I’ll give you three guesses to plan out the answer to that question.

My planning skills aren’t limited to military stuff. I like making plans for things I don’t even know about. I even diagram basketball plays for local AAU teams. I’ve been known to walk up to a huddle of high school age basketball players, give them offensive plays and defensive schemes, and watch them execute it on the court. I’m usually chased away by their coach, but that doesn’t change the fact that they use my plan, and it comes together.

I even dabbled in architecture. One time I walked up to a construction site, handed the foreman a set of blueprints I had planned out, and said, “Now there’s a real plan you can use.” When he asked me who the fuck I was, I slowly lit my cigar and said, “You should build it that way. After all, I love it when a plan comes together.” Hearing this, he immediately turned to his boys and told them to follow my plan. People just seem to gain confidence when I pull that cigar out and tell them how much I love it when my plans come together, you know? I patted him on the back and walked away. And the plan worked. Of course, the building had major structural damage and collapsed two months after completion because I know nothing about construction, but the point is, they used my plan.

I guess it all goes back to when I was a kid. I loved planning things. In history class, they asked us to do a report on any topic in United States history. I chose the Marshall Plan, which was the U.S. program designed to rebuild the Western European infrastructure following World War II. On the day my presentation was due, I got up and gave a twenty minute speech on how awesome it is to plan things out ahead of time. I told them how good I was at planning, and that one day I would make plans come together for a living. My teacher asked me what the fuck any of that had to do with the Marshall Plan, but I just shook my head and laughed. Then I pulled out a cigar and said, “God, I love it when a plan comes together.” I was then immediately sent to the principal’s office since we weren’t allowed to smoke in fourth grade.

But my life of making military plans is over. Now I’m living off my great reputation of past planning success. Don’t worry, though. I’m making bank after I got a sweet endorsement deal I signed with Planned Parenthood. They’re paying me to show up at Pro-Life rallies, light up my cigar, and tell the protestors, “Look, you might not be pro-choice, but don’t you just love it when a planned pregnancy comes together?” No matter what they believe in, I’m hoping that as fans of the A-Team, they say yes.

Why would they do that, you ask? Because, as the saying goes…they enjoy it when a scheme works out nicely for all involved.

I scored tickets to Stephen Strasburg’s debut Tuesday night, so I grabbed the most knowledgeable baseball fan I know and headed down to beautiful Southeast D.C. It was easily the best DC sporting event I’ve attended in person, and one of the coolest atmospheres at any gave I’ve ever seen live. Here are my tweets from throughout the night. I’ve cleaned them up and elaborated somewhat on the jokes, so if you want the originals just click the link to your right. Consider this The Strasburg Tweets: Director’s Cut. Some of my commentary is on Strasburg; most of it is on the atmosphere at the game. A lot of people are going to say he looked awesome. They are absolutely right so I didn’t want to add to the Strasburg Suckfest here all that much. Here they are, in chronological order:

Pregame

Metro report – just overheard a Pirates fan talking trash about the Penguins. Whatever you need to do to sleep at night bro.

The organist just played the Black Eyed Peas – I assumed all organists are 105, so this is surprising.

When I was a kid, thought it would be awesome to be in the grounds crew. Now I realize your just a janitor with an audience.

Stras is on the field…and one of his warm up tosses just cured cancer.

The Nats mascot, a muscular eagle, is in waaaay too good shape. I want a weird looking animal that looks like it has high blood pressure. #philliephanatic

Ken Burns is getting interviewed at home plate. Just from the look of him you know he gets wedgies on the reg.

A dude who looks exactly like Artie Lange’s dad from Dirty Work is sitting in front of us #wouldabeenalotbetterifyoubroughtmeawhore. I would have also accepted the grandfather from Problem Child or the owner from The Replacements. I looked up more info later, and it turns out his name was Jack Warden and he is dead.

Someone referred to as internationally known recording artist Jared plays the National Anthem on sax. He looks like Kenny Powers…on a bad day. Serious, check him out. As soon as I saw him I legitimately thought Danny McBride was doing a bit.

Also, Baltimore fans who still yell “OH!” during the anthem should have internationally known recording artist Jared sit on their face.

The guy next to me just said, “First pitch is going to be a strikeout!” Strikeout on one pitch? Who is he, Bugs Bunny? Another non-baseball related gem this guy laid on his friends later, “Right now I’m just working at Target for the money.” As opposed to what? The people who work there for the love of stocking shelves and red aprons?

Can you feel the unmitigated passion that nations the world over will bring to South Africa this Friday to watch a few fancy lads use their dainty little feet to kick a ball around a field?

Fancy lads from all kind of countries will unite for World Cup 2010 giving the rest of the world something to focus on while Americans focus on real sports that actual men play. For roughly a month, the world will stop to pay some attention as some swishy fops prance around in their little shorts and cleats.

In one of the most anticipated early round matchups, the US will play England. This is intriguing contest for a number of reasons: will the English team pause halfway through the game for tea and krimpets? Will their powdered wigs impede their view of the ball? And after the game, will their elaborate postgame curtsies be seen as showboating? On the U.S. side: will the Americans be able to stay on the field…or will the temptation to run back to the locker room to check the baseball scores prove too much?

I’m sure there are a lot of other great matchups. I’ve heard Brazil is usually good, so I’m sure their playing somebody in this thing. And I have no doubt that some combination of Italy, France, Germany, Spain, Columbia, Switzerland, China, and a bevy of Central American teams will be competing in this event that lots of people seem to care about.

Another question I have: if the NBA champs played the World Cup champs at soccer, how many goals do you think the NBA’s vastly superior athletes would score on whatever douche patrol won this little Tournament of Dandies? 17? 18? Maybe they go for 20.

The event is hosted in South Africa for the first time. I think it’s the first time, anyway. This is a big deal, for some reason. Of course, that begs the question: What if the South African World Cup officials will be smug and lawbreaking, like the South African bad guys from Lethal Weapon 2. If that’s the case, we Americans may have bigger problems on our hands than just winning a little soccer contest. Nobody wants to see Landon Donovan get shot, only to have the South African coach smirk and say, “Diplomatic immunity.” If you’re an American fan, you have to hope that Jozy Altidore enters at that point, shoots the South African coach, and coolly replies, “It’s been revoked.” What better way to end a World Cup?

My Cup prediction? Celtics in 6, Blackhawks in 7, the AL wins the All Star Game, and the Bengals edge the Cowboys in the NFL Hall of Fame game.